You're Needed
by Bookworm Kate
Summary: Foyle's War - The morning after VE Day Sam goes looking for an explanation and gets more than she hoped. Foyle/Sam


"You're Needed"

Foyle/Sam

May 9th, 1945, the day after Foyle and Company celebrate VE Day. Sam is determined to get an explanation out of Foyle, but gets more than she hoped.

* * *

A clunking sound came from the gearbox and Sam realized she wasn't paying attention as she shifted into third. She came around the corner to see Foyle's house and the conversation that had been preying on her mind all morning came flooding back again.

"Are you telling me that all these years –" said Sam, confused.

"Well, I never _actually_ said I couldn't drive…"

Sam looked at her shoes as she said, "So, you never really needed me?"

"I wouldn't say that," Foyle said softly.

He was interrupted in saying anything more by Andrew bursting in. What had Foyle been about to say? Sam had come to find out, and she just hoped it wouldn't end up being something she did not want to hear.

The street was littered with remnants of the previous day's parties. Sam smiled to see the rubbish, and the flags flapping in the wind. War was finally over! It was strange to think that things would return to normal. She'd rather gotten used to how life had been, except perhaps for the rationing.

Sam parked in front of Foyle's house, and suddenly felt very nervous. Hoping that her plan would work, she rang the bell and waited. Foyle opened the door, brushing toast crumbs off his shirt. "Sam." He looked neither confused by her presence nor curious, just his usual calm demeanor. Sam cleared her throat, trying remembering what she had planned to say.

"Good morning, Sir. I'm sorry to bother you." Sam fidgeted with a button on her cardigan. It was strange being out of uniform.

Foyle smiled and turned slightly towards the hall behind him, "I'm afraid Andrew isn't up yet. You must have really tired him out with so much dancing last night."

"Actually I'm here for you. You're needed, Sir."

"Oh." Foyle sighed. "Well, let me just get my things and leave a note for Andrew. I'll be just a moment."

Feeling relieved, Sam said, "I'll wait in the car, Sir." She was glad Andrew wasn't up yet. It was easier to face one Foyle at a time.

Foyle nodded, and turned back inside, frowning. Sam always wanted to come in. He was dressed for fishing rather than his usual suit, but today it would just have to do. Joining Sam in the Wolseley shortly, Foyle asked, "So, what has happened? A celebration gone bad?"

They started off down the street. Sam looked uneasy, "Um, well, Sir, it just so happens…what I mean to say, Sir…"

"Sam?" Foyle looked over at her with concern, "What's the matter?"

In a rush, hoping to get the worst of it over with, and completely forgetting what she had spent so much time planning to say, Sam said, "You _are _needed, Sir, but today, you're needed by me. I need to ask you…it's been on my mind all night. I mean, if you could drive, why did you need _me_? Especially since it was so unorthodox. Not that I'm not glad – I really enjoyed working for you, but – "

"Sam!" Foyle stopped her in mid-breath. She looked petrified and Foyle couldn't help but laugh. Pushing his hat up to rest on his forehead, he looked over at Sam. Blushing, Sam saw he was wearing her favorite green trilby, the one he wore while fishing because it was so old now.

Somewhat at a loss for words, Foyle grinned, "So, are you kidnapping me then?"

"Absolutely!" Sam said smiling back.

They were driving out of Hastings, away from the coast, but the sea air was still strong. Foyle took a deep breath, trying to find a way of explaining and justifying Sam's years of service. He understood why she was so worried: she didn't want her contribution to be worthless or less meaningful. For all her youthful spark, Sam was still very serious, so Foyle appreciated what she had to say. Although surprised by her current action of driving him to some unknown place, he was amused and wanted more than anything to humor her. He was also sobered by the fact that this may be their last drive together.

Foyle sighed, unsure of what to say to alleviate her worries. Hearing this, Sam looked over, and said in a quiet voice, "Why didn't you tell me?" Foyle's breath caught in his throat and he mentally kicked himself. I've hurt her, he thought.

"Sam, being able to do something, and being able to do it well, are two very different things." He paused. "It was an emergency, and I suppose being forced by that brought everything back."

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I don't really enjoy driving, um, partly because it takes so much concentration. It would be difficult for me to focus on catching criminals if I'm thinking about which gear to shift into."

Sam smiled grimly, thinking of her lapse that morning. "I understand, Sir. Thank you for explaining." Her voice betrayed her – she didn't sound at all convinced.

Foyle bit his lip, daring himself to go on. "Besides, Sam, you are an excellent driver, and…and…well, um, I couldn't have made it through this bloody war without you. Some days I was out of my mind with worry about Andrew, and I wouldn't have made it past my street if I were driving myself. In addition, you helped out many times with our cases." Foyle cleared his throat again, annoyed that he felt so nervous telling Sam the truth.

Sam blushed a deep red. "T-thank you, Sir."

Speaking softly, almost as if to himself, Foyle breathed, "You made it worth getting up in the morning. You made all of it worth it. I needed you."

Sam didn't reply. Instead she turned off the road and pulled the car to a stop. This point afforded a magnificent view of the sea and Hastings. They both sat still, drinking in the view, relieved that it was finally secure.

Sam sighed and Foyle looked over, catching her eye. They looked at each other for a few moments, realizing the bond they shared, and silently, if somewhat guiltily, thanked the war for that.

"I'm sorry for criticizing you," Sam said softly, "I just needed to know, I suppose."

Foyle smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling, "Yes, I know you too well. I knew you would have something to say about me driving behind your back."

Sam laughed, "Naturally, Sir. Although, you are the boss."

"I'm not your boss anymore, Sam."

"Yes." Sam paused. "It will be strange not having you there, Sir. Though hopefully I won't need anymore rescuing now the war's over."

Foyle nodded, looking thoughtfully out over Hastings. "Mind you, we've still got a ways to go before things are back to normal."

"Do you think so, Sir?" Sam said unhappily, "What about rationing? It feels like I haven't had a proper meal in years!"

"Well, I'd better take you to lunch then, Sam," Foyle said with a laugh.

"That's jolly nice of you, Sir."

"My pleasure."

They sat quietly for a while until Foyle said, "Let's step outside for just a moment." It was a beautiful day, and the sun cheered up every corner of the horizon.

"I've come to love Hastings," Sam mused, watching the seagulls overhead.

Foyle nodded, twirling his hat in his hands. Looking awkwardly at Sam, he said, "I'd miss you if you left, you know."

Sam looked at him with surprise. Biting his lip and frowning slightly, he caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back, smiling and embarrassed.

"We made it through, Sir…together."

On impulse, Foyle pulled her towards him and into his arms. "I've wanted to do this for years, Sam; every time you were nearly hurt, or those dark moments when you would say just the right thing and make the day bright again. Dear, dear Sam, what on earth would I have done without you?"

She put her arms around his neck and held him closely. She felt him kiss the top of her head gently. He let go, his eyes misty. He cleared his throat and looked out to sea, "You know, Captain Kiefer accused me of not changing, of remaining above all the war has put this country through. But the truth is, I've felt it all. I've survived two wars, and I'm so very glad that this one is over. I can't take much more."

Sam was startled to hear Foyle talk so frankly like this. She linked her arm through his and replied with warmth and vigor, "You've done a lot of good in your position, helping those who might not have had a chance. Be proud of what you have accomplished, Sir."

Foyle nodded. "See, what would I do without you?"

Sam laughed, and Foyle smiled back.

They shared a look and understood each other completely, just as they had always done. Foyle felt that as long as Sam was around, the world would right itself again. Their lives were so integrally tied that without each other, life would never seem the same. Sam dared to think of it love of some kind, and unknowingly to her, Foyle thought that too. What they shared was far more than a partnership, and it resided in some gray area that neither felt they should trespass into just yet.

Foyle turned back to the car, "How about that lunch then, Miss Stewart?"

"Yes please!" Looking slyly at Foyle she paused, "And will you be driving, Sir?"

Foyle grinned, feeling years younger. He threw his hat at her playfully as he slipped into the passenger seat. "Get in, Sam, you're needed. Let's have one last drive!"


End file.
